In the Crowd
by SSLE
Summary: Edith sees Anthony two years after he left her at the altar.


**London, 1922**

"Richard! Anthony!" A man cried besides her but Edith paid little attention. The club was crowded and Michael was reading her latest article and she was staring attentively trying to disclose his reaction. By now, he merely looked focused on her words.

"Richard! Anthony I'm here!" The man called up again and she frowned. He was in a table behind her and she didn't turn to look but the man sounded foreign. Perhaps French or Italian, judging by his accent. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered that Anthony was a too familiar name and Italy was where she had supposed to go on her honeymoon but quickly pushed those uncomfortable musings away and leaned forward, as Michael was finishing his reading.

"Where is Anthony?" the Italian – she had decided he was Italian – asked again

"We run into Lady Anne. They're outside."

"Oh God, her again? The poor man. She can't take a hint can she?"

"Yes, she's been quite insisting lately. I daresay he will be forced to be harsh" A chair was pulled

"I doubt it."

"I think it's quite good" Michael said velvety, putting it down, smiling at her. "I think your writing is getting sharper each time. I like it"

"You think?" Edith asked eagerly "That sounds like something my sister would write…the editor told me to push my limits but…"

"I can't see how that is a bad thing. You told me about your sister. The one who married a chauffer right?"

"Yes, that's the one" Edith leaned back in the chair taking her papers.

"The world has changed" Michael caught her retrieving hand "And we must change with it" His intense gaze bored into hers and Edith blushed. Yes, she was an independent woman now, living in London, writing to a magazine about politics and Parliament, she went out to London's most popular dance clubs, where she danced the foxtrot and the tango. But even so, a part of her was still back at Downton Abbey and the way Michael sometimes looked at her made her uncomfortable.

"Yes…" Edith muttered. "I can understand that"

"Edith…" he started "We have known each other for months and these last weeks have been…very eye opening to me. You are an extraordinary woman and…"

"Look! Anthony's coming" She was momentarily distracted by the voice of the Italian behind her again. "Gods man, you're pale!"

"Damn" The other man – Richard wasn't it? - muttered under his breath, "I need an ashtray. Anthony, could you get me one please?"

"Edith are you listening?"

"Yes" She suddenly said "I am. Do continue"

"I'm not old fashioned. I don't require a promise…but I want to know if you feel the same about me. It is important for me do you understand?" His other hand cupped hers.

Edith opened her mouth to answer until a voice behind them said "Excuse me, could I take the ashtray?"

Her heart skipped a beat. Slowly, she looked up, to face the voice who had just spoken. Edith got the feeling he had just done the same thing and their eyes met.

For the longest moment they didn't speak.

Michael's voice broke the silence which in her mind had lasted for hours but in reality it endured only four or five seconds. "Yes, yes of course" he said hurriedly.

But Anthony wasn't paying attention. And neither was Edith.

"Anthony" She whispered

He seemed to awake from a trance. "Lady Edith" He murmured and made an attempt to smile. He failed.

Edith couldn't tear her eyes from him. He was different, she thought immediately. Thinner and taller somehow, his shoulders seemed broader than before. His hair was the same but the main different was his face, which was now covered with a beard.

His fingers went for the ashtray.

_Edith I cannot let you throw away your life like this_

Anthony's hand closed around it.

_Do you know how much you mean to me?_

For the second time his words rang on her brain.

Strangely enough, what she remembered most about him that day was his scent. When he leaned to tell her that God should bless her, always, he smelled of sandalwood and lemon. After the pain slowly vanished that was what stayed imprinted on her mind and senses.

And now, Edith found herself wondering if he still smelled like this. And she wanted to know. "Anthony" She said again, making an attempt to stand but one of his friend's appeared by his side, placing a hand on his shoulder, turning him around.

"Anthony" His voice was no longer cheerful, but quiet and serious "Are you alright?"

"Yes" He uttered "I am. Let me introduce you" Anthony changed suddenly, adopting a fake gleefully tone. "This is Niccolò di Stefano Nelli. A friend of mine"

The man was as tall as Anthony, wore short black hair pulled back and had deep dark eyes which were surveying her attentively, as if trying to read her thoughts "This is Lady Edith…Lady Edith Crawley"

Recognition lightened in his eyes. "Lady Edith" He said taking her hand. "It is a pleasure"

"Mr. Nelli"

"I have heard much of you" He then said. Anthony closed his eyes momentarily but the man squeezed his shoulder reassuring.

"Oh?" She said "Indeed?" And eyed Anthony

"Yes. And you are every bit as lovely as Anthony said"

"Nicco" Anthony said warningly. She had never heard him use that tone. Niccolò merely smiled sardonically.

"But we would not wish to intrude" His gaze travelled to Edith's hand between Michael's two larger ones. "Or at least, I would not"

Now Anthony had also noticed her hand and his demeanor hardened almost imperceptibly. "And so I'm going to take that ashtray before Richard throws another fit. It was a pleasure my lady. If you excuse me"

Anthony stood alone. "Yes, I must return as well. You look lovely, lady Edith. I'm so very happy to find you well"

He sat at his table. She was surprised to find him there truly. Why was he in London? Where had he been during the last two years? He had left Yorkshire after the wedding and no one was able to tell her or her father where he had gone. Some said Ireland, others Scotland, others London. Rumors went as far as to claim he had gone to France. He hadn't returned. But now he was here, with an Italian friend, looking strangely handsome, even more than before. He didn't smile as often, Edith immediately noticed when she looked back discretely at him in time to see him asking for a drink.

"Edith who is him?"

She finally took her hand from his. "He is an old acquaintance from the county…"

"Only such? You seem disturbed…"

"I…" She stumbled upon her words "I haven't seen him in two years…I was surprised, only that. He…vanished. No one knew about him or his whereabouts. This was the last place I could think of finding him"

"Oh" Michael said "I see…" He paused "Are you alright?"

"Yes" She made an effort to smile. "I am…you were saying?"

"I was saying that I've grown very fond of you" He resumed his serious, velvety tone.

Edith parted her lips to speak. "I…am glad." That sounded stupid even to her own ears "And I am fond of you as well…you are a wonderful man." What she said next would determine their future together, she realized. "You have been such a great friend. I couldn't have made any of this without you"

Michael smiled "You are wrong. You have done this all on yourself. I'm just cheering in the background"

She made an honest effort to make her smile widen. "Let's dance" Edith suddenly said taking his hand. Somehow, she couldn't let him continue this conversation, she couldn't stay seated with Sir Anthony Strallan her former fiancée, the man who had abandoned her at the altar behind them. She couldn't stop her hands from fidgeting.

When Michael and her stood and walked over to the dance floor, Edith dared to shot a look at Sir Anthony. It seemed that their eyes had met but she couldn't tell for sure, for he turned his head too fast. He was calmly drinking his cocktail. The Italian man leaned into him and whispered something. Anthony nodded briefly and muttered in return. Who was this Niccolò, she wondered? They seemed quite close. Why? Where had they met?

It was none of her business, she told herself. He had left her at the altar. He hadn't even had the decency to see her one last time before he disappeared. Anthony had been a coward. He had humiliated her in ways she had never thought possible. She shouldn't care about his friends, damn it!

And Michael was gazing at her, wondering why she wasn't returning his attention. Michael was the kind of man she wanted. He was confidant and he always knew what to say. He was practical. He understood tradition but was brave enough to reject it when necessary. Michael was her new life and she loved her new life.

He pulled her into his arms, Edith wrapping her arms around his neck. Michael whirled her around and she lost sight of Anthony. _If I don't see him, I won't feel him _

She did well in the two years she spent without him. She did, Edith tried to convince herself. They danced. Edith closed her eyes and hold onto him, forgetting everything, forgetting that the man she had loved was behind them, probably watching them._ Michael is the man I love now._

The song ended abruptly and he released her with a grin. Edith began to return the smile until her treacherous gaze searched for Anthony only to find him standing up with his friends, placing his white scarf around his neck. He paid his drink and they headed to the exit.

Edith stood there watching him. He was leaving, again without a last look at her. When he left her two years ago he didn't look back as well. Now he was doing the same.

_No. I cannot allow it._

"Wait here" Edith whispered to Michael.

"Edith? What…" But his voice dissipated in the noise around them as she rushed towards the street. The cold wind hit her unforgiving and she shivered.

Anthony and the other two men were calmly walking down the street and she was able to hear the voice of the Italian. Gathering courage she pursued him painfully aware that was always her mistake. "Sir Anthony!"

They stopped and looked back. She took several steps towards them reaching them. Staring at him.

"Lady Edith" He smiled a little. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I am. But I wondered if I could have a word."

He looked back at his companions. "We're waiting in the car" Said the oldest of them. Niccolò however lingered a bit more.

"My lady" He ended up saying before turning his back.

When they were out of earshot she muttered "They are so protective of you aren't they? Are you sure you tell them the story right?"

There was a flick of hurt in his eyes. Edith felt a pang of remorse but swallowed it down. He should feel hurt. She wanted him hurt.

He looked down at his feet for a moment. "Nicco means no harm. We…" Anthony didn't seem to know how to explain it. "We are friends" He said simply.

"I see" She pressed her lips together. "Where are you staying?" Her tone was considerably soft now.

"I have my own house in Kensington… But I'm having some changes made so for now I'm staying with Richard."

"So you have been in London all this time?" It sounded more like an interrogation than a proper conversation but Edith didn't even bring herself to care.

"No…not quite. I've actually arrived to London two weeks ago"

"Then where haveyou_ been_?" Though she didn't mean it came out as a desperate sigh. Closing her eyes, Edith felt breathless.

Anthony almost took a step towards her. Almost.

"In India" He murmured. "I have been in India"

"India?" She was incredulous "In Asia?"

Anthony raised his eyebrows and smiled "Yes…yes that's the one"

Edith was gaping at him. "I…how…when?"

"Shortly after the wedding." He answered softly. "I couldn't stay in Yorkshire. And I didn't want to stay in England."

"And India was far away enough from me?" She blurted suddenly.

He frowned biting down his lip. "I don't blame you for hating me."

"And what on God's name were you doing in India?" It was as though she hadn't heard him "Living some grand adventure?"

He gave one of his self depreciative chuckles. "I'm afraid not. Rather boring actually. Sitting down on clubs, reading The Times and wishing for England"

"Then why go there?"

Anthony sighed. "I needed to change"

"And that was all you did there? Reading the Times, talking about England and complain about the heat?"

"I was in Mumbai…Calcutta and Goa. This was where I met Niccolò. But mostly yes. I got to learn how to ride with one arm as well and see a bit of jungle and wild animals"

There was something more, she realized. He was uncomfortable, there was something he wasn't telling her. Some memory perhaps… "Two years…you were there for two years?"

"Not exactly two…but yes, close enough"

"And now you've returned" Edith whispered

"Nicco's wife died in Mumbai. He wanted to return to Europe. Richard Fairfax spent half of his life in Asia and wanted to return home as well. And I…also felt that my time there was over"

"And what are you going to do now?" She was faintly aware she was meddling to the point of indiscretion or impertinence. In truth, he had no obligation to answer her save for whatever honour remained in him. But what did that matter anyway? It mattered to him, a voice inside her head reminded her. "Are you going to return to Yorkshire?"

Anthony smiled sadly. "Hardly. I am not welcomed there and justly so"

"That was why you ran away?"

"I didn't run away" He answered softly.

"Yes. Yes you did. That was you did Sir Anthony Strallan"

He faced her with those sad blue eyes of his and for a second she saw the man she had known two years ago. This man had been hiding behind a new mask of seriousness and faked distance but now there he was again. "I'm not returning. I'm staying in London for now and then…we'll see"

"How you changed. I didn't think you would be a man who goes with the tide"

Anthony didn't seem to have an answer for that. He changed the subject then "You have made a name for yourself as well. I've been here for two weeks and all I hear about is this bright young lady who writes witty and deadly articles"

"Do you not approve it?" She reacted, somehow irrationally

He frowned only a little and his smile vanished. "On the contrary. I think it's wonderful…quite wonderful"

Edith made an effort to detect the condescendence in his voice but it simply wasn't there.

"And I was right" Anthony added with a whisper. She looked up at him, their eyes meeting his frank and open hers closed and defiant.

"How so?"

"You are happy" He softly said "You are happy with your brilliant career and with a handsome young fellow who obviously adores you."

"Are you saying that you did the right thing?" Edith didn't even try to keep the bitterness away from her tone "That you did well when you left me humiliated in front of everyone? Do you realize how much pain, how much suffering…what I had to endure it…"

"Stop it" He whispered. He begged.

She did, against all the expectations. Anthony clenched his teeth, his eyes bright, obviously making an enormous effort to keep his emotions in check "I do regret the way I did it. I do regret the humiliation I made you suffer. I should have been braver. I was weak and I was a feeble. And there is not a day I do not hate myself for what I put you through. But I do not regret the end. I do not regret stepping away and not marrying you. Because you are happy now. You are happy"

He had taken that step towards her. His beard, Edith saw, made him look simultaneously older and more attractive. "And you?" She suddenly asked, with a smaller voice, lower. "Are you happy?"

He straightened himself. The look he gave her was very similar to how he had gazed upon her when they decided they would marry. When she finally had convinced him. "I'm in peace"

Silence ensued between them as they stared into each other's eyes, thoughts running through her head. "I must go" He ended up saying, after breaking the contact. "It was very nice to see you, Lady Edith…" Anthony hesitated and gave her one of his goofy smiles "Though I understand you cannot say the same of me"

He turned around and walked away. Edith stood watching him torn between emotions, torn between wanting to run after him and apologize. Or run after him and slap him.

But it was too late. Sir Anthony turned the corner and he was gone from sight and gone from her life as well.

* * *

Shivering, he entered the car, serious and sighing. Richard was on the front sit and told the driver to start the engine. Niccolò stared at him "Are you well?" He asked quietly.

"Yes, I am"

"Liar"

Anthony was forced to smile. "As well as it can be expected"

The Italian sighed deeply, placing his hands behind his head, leaning back. "This was a very bad idea"

"What?"

"Staying with her, talking to her"

"I owed her this" Anthony claimed, gazing through the window.

"Perhaps you should have stayed in India. You were happy in India. And there were pleasures you could enjoy without guilt"

Anthony shook his head "No. I did well in return to England. This is my home. And sooner or later I knew I would see her, it was close to inevitable."

"And now?" Nicco wondered curiously "What are you going to do?"

"There is nothing to do" He answered "I was right. And somehow…it makes it better. Because during this all time I wondered whether I had taken the right decision. And tonight I saw that I did. She is happy and fulfilled in ways she could never have been."

"She hates you when all you did was to make her happy. How idiotically noble of you not to take advantage of that"

He kept silent. Nicco pressed on.

"So you're going to stand by and be miserable...that's your brilliant master plan?"

Anthony said crisply "I'm going to shave this beard. I think I've grown tired of it"

* * *

**This is a short piece probably the first part of two. I know that it's probably not going to happen this way but still. This ship is not dead. I don't allow it! Please, review? English isn't my mother language so I apologize for any mistakes. **


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